The Roehampton Explorer

I am already in love with this city and there's no way in heckfire I would consider moving back to the States now. Nope. Never. I don't think there is any other place on Earth where I could be happier than I am now in London.

The past two days I went out exploring the city on my own and sometimes that's just as fun as going with someone. For me, I tend to venture off the beaten path when I'm alone in London and usually that is when I find the “hidden gems” a city has to offer. I'd say it's a hobby of mine, actually. Exploring, that is. I've lived alone and in so many different places I have certainly had plenty of chances to do just that; Bay Village, Lakewood, Columbus and *audible sigh* Sandusky, in Ohio; Danville, Kentucky; Columbia, South Carolina; Cambridge, England; and London, twice. Granted, I've barely touched the surface of what this city has to offer but since I don't ever plan on leaving it there's plenty of time to dig deep into it.

Friday was free of classes so I took the tube from East Putney station back to Oxford Street station, where I'd gone shopping for shoes last week. I had no intention of making any purchases on this trip, however. Oxford Street, simply put, is centrally located and easy to get to. I “alighted” (as the female voice of the Underground commanded) and, with no real plan or destination beyond my current position, meandered through the crowd and the congested shops. To my surprise, I discovered things I hadn't noticed the first time around. Example:

Notice the bags behind him. See? I'm not kidding!

Cupcake and Frozen Yoghurt stands inside Topshop (one of the leading female clothing stores with relatively inexpensive and trendy fashions).

Mannequins on the floor, reflecting in a mirror on the wall in the window display.

Walls completely covered in antique sewing machines in All Saints Clothing:

I wandered all the way to Soho, a smaller if not equally popular shopping area that's home to many of the independent shops that feature one-of-a-kind finds in teeny-tiny stores. Frankly, I don't know how they manage to stay in business. I assume tourists make up 95% of their shoppers-who-purchase, willing to toss money around using 'on holiday' as an excuse. Anyway, hypotheses aside, I was very proud of myself for lasting an entire day, all walking, in heels. It's just not done to go shopping in anything but. Correction, it IS done but you actually get better service when you're perched up on heels, looking important and like a seasoned Londoner who can handle the discomfort of walking an entire day in wedges. On uneven cobblestone sidewalks and streets, no less. Try it, it is not easy. And then top that off with an hour ride home on the tube missing your switch three times and having to retrace your steps each time because the station platform was labeled backwards. And then go home and run for an hour. Yeah.

And then do it all over again the next day. Just kidding, I love it all. That's why I did, in fact, return to the city today, once again on my own and this time by bus. The line from Putney to everything else was out this weekend, repairs and nonsense, so I was instructed by the transportation expert stationed outside the closed Underground gates to take the Number 14, which would land me right at Hyde Park Corner, my planned destination for today.

It was another hot, sunny day and the bus was a sauna. Normally the heat doesn't bother me but on a 90 degree day on an unventilated bus amid a crowd of passengers for a 45 minute ride into one of the busiest cities in the world, well, that's uncomfortable. I was feeling faint by the time I finally landed at Hyde Park and I stepped off the bus and hurried for the open expanse of the park to avoid the tourists. However, the weather had encouraged the whole of London to vacate their homes and hotels and pour into Hyde Park today. The 360-some acres of Hyde were swarming with people. It was so packed I was sure a collision between the unsteady tourist bikers and a speeding roller-blader would occur. I did a quick turn about the park and then decided to simply wander the London back-roads, pointing myself in the direction of Harrods (only the most famous department store in London, maybe in the world?). 

I crossed the street going south out of Hyde and passed The Lanesborough, the most expensive, elite hotel in London, intentionally discrete with their label. If you don't know The Lanesborogh is THERE you don't need to know it's there because you don't belong anywhere near it. From their website: “Guests of The Lanesborough are received as honoured guests in a private home and cared for by personal butlers.” and “We believe this exclusive combination of elegant ambience, unparalleled service and epicurean delights take the art of planning and delivering an event to a heightened and memorable level of sophistication worthy of our guests.” No big deal.

From The Lanesborough, where I expect to be staying regularly in the not-so-distant future, I headed back the way I had come on the bus, taking the side streets this time, past several of the Embassies and other coveted pieces of property in what is probably the most expensive area of London, where the Boroughs of Westminster, Chelsea, and Kensington collide.

Godiva Display

I passed a demonstration against the Syrians as well as a protest against Harrods for selling fur before I actually made it into the store, safe and sound and glad to be away from the ruckus outside. However, it wasn't much less ruckus-y inside. Harrods was SO insanely packed with tourists I could barely walk around, let alone look at anything. Not that I was there to shop. No, no, no. I doubt there's a single item in that store I could afford. But it's fun to look ;) And actually, I guess I lied because they have a whole fresh foods market inside the store and if you buy something tiny it's not out of my budget range. In fact, I splurged and bought a single strawberry cream cookie, which I wanted to eat at their espresso cafe but it was too crowded. I didn't even make it off the ground floor before I gave up on Harrods and broke free into the fresh air (but not before snapping a few photos!).

A Display of Fancy Sugar "Cubes", Shaped as Butterflies, Hearts, and Stacked in Twists in the Back

I walked, speed-walked, farther and farther west, sick to death of combating the waves of idioticly slow tourists. After spending a few hours walking around I just wanted to sit, so I turned back onto a side street and found this place:

A tiny fresh-foods cafe and juice bar with an open store front facing out into a quiet street. I sat inside and read the November issue of Elle (one I'd gotten for free because I'd never spend a day's worth of groceries on a magazine the size of a book), which featured Emma Watson from Harry Potter. My usual vanilla latte with the strawberry cream DREAM of a cookie (oh goodness, that has to be what heaven tastes like; real dried strawberries and white chocolate bits laced inside a thick, freshly baked cookie), was exactly the type of pick-me-up I needed to get me home. 

I walked and walked to find a bus stop, but alas there was too much construction for buses on the main road. However, in transit I did get to see this very interesting sight outside the Victoria and Albert museum:

A big wooden circle thing...

I also walked down Thurloe Street, on a whim, as I continued to make my way to the bus and decided that is where I want to live immediately after I graduate:

So now all I need is about £1.5 million so I can buy it. No big deal. I mean, everyone gets an awesomely paying job right out of school, right? Everyone buys a £1.5 million flat in London for their first home, and if they don't they should!

Ooo, ahhh, here's another one on the same street.    A cool 6.9 mil. But I'm not too picky so don't worry. I'd take either: